


Un débardeur vert

by Vegan_Venom



Series: A Rainbow of Discarded Clothes [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anarchism, Demisexual Enjolras, Flirting, M/M, Memes, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 15:42:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8850664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vegan_Venom/pseuds/Vegan_Venom
Summary: Grantaire doesn't have time to change out of his shorts and tank top between boxing and the ABC meeting. Enjolras doesn't understand how this simple difference in clothing suddenly made the drunkard's usual leering and inappropriate come-ons seem like actions designed deliberately to kill Enjolras from sexual frustration.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is just PWP. I make no apologies.
> 
> I also discovered a treasure trove of memes that my head-canon flirty-and-fabulous Courf would love so I had to work them in here somewhere. Find it [here](https://www.facebook.com/bottomleftist/?fref=ts).

Enjolras felt as though he hadn't had a break in weeks. In the first week of May there had been all the organisation for the counter-protest against La Manif Pour Tous in the city centre. Dealing with the aftermath turned out to be more work when Bahorel was arrested after getting into a fistfight with some of the homophobes there who had objected to him kissing Feuilly in the street. The fact that Bahorel was straight and only did it to piss them off might not have gone down well in his defense, so he and Feuilly had pretended to date until he was finally cleared of any criminal wrongdoing. That incident had lead to some of the most awkwardly cute kisses their group had ever witnessed. In early June they'd been working hard to capitalise on a scandal involving the centre-right mayor of their arrondissement, and in the last few days their online platforms had been inundated with vitriol after they'd been targeted by users of a far-right forum.

Reporting yet another tweet which managed to be misogonystic, homophobic, ableist _and_ xenophobic despite the 140 character limit (he'd given up on replying when the handful of tweets per hour _@lesamis_abc_ had become dozens), Enjolras sighed heavily and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. 

"That's it, no more internet for you 'til after the meeting," Combeferre announced decisively, snapping the lid of Enjolras' Macbook shut to an indignant noise of protest. "And as it's due to start in five minutes, I have faith that even you can wait that long."

When Enjolras gave no verbal acknowledgment of this, his best friend gentled his tone. "Alright, I'm getting you a drink. And no, not a coffee, you don't need to be any more wound up. Beer? Tea? Juice?"

"Fine. A green tea, then" Enjolras muttered without opening his eyes. After a few seconds he realised he had been pretty rude, but when he looked up to apologise Combeferre was already at the bar. Since they were regulars the staff didn't mind if they just went and asked for what they wanted rather than waiting for service. 

Without the distraction of the laptop he realised that at some point most of the group had entered the café. On the same long table to his left, Joly and Bossuet both appeared to be unabashedly flirting with Musichetta, one of the waitresses, while Feuilly, Éponine and Courfeyrac were rearranging tables and chairs in front of him so everyone could sit together. Jehan was sitting watching them, reciting something which may have been their own poetry or may have been the lyrics to a trite pop song. Marius and Cosette were snuggled in a corner whispering to each other, oblivious to the outside world. 

Enjolras checked his watch and decided to wait for Combeferre to return with their drinks before calling the meeting to a start. Not feeling social, he picked away at the last remnants of his red nail varnish until he heard the door bang against the wall as it was thrown open by Bahorel, followed by Grantaire. 

"Alright guys, the wait is over. Now that the hunks are here you can finally start this party! " Bahorel shouted, his deep voice filling the room.

"No way, man, drinks first," Grantaire protested, shoving him and laughing as he made his way to the bar. 

"Sorry if we're gross," Bahorel apologised as he sat down next to Feuilly. "Didn't have time to change after boxing, so we're all sweaty. But we thought you boys might appreciate the masculine smell." With this he winked at his ex-fake-boyfriend, whose lips turned up in a grimace but couldn't hide the blush that crept onto his freckled cheeks. 

At Combeferre's return (and no he wasn't going to wait for Grantaire if the man thought alcohol was more important than being punctual) Enjolras cleared his throat and outlined the agenda for the meeting which he'd prepared last night. "Does anyone have anything urgent they want to discuss before those points?" he finished. 

"Actually, yes I do," said Courfeyrac, standing and trying to look serious despite a grin threatening to appear. "I've recently come across the work of someone who has found a novel way to reach his audience with ideas of anarchist socialism and anti-fascism, and I think we should review his work."

Éponine sighed. "It's another meme page on Facebook isn't it."

Courfeyrac raised his chin higher and clasped his hands behind his back, stretching a hot pink t-shirt over his chest. "It's an extremely effective way of communicating ideas. And I've _got_ to show you this one!"

"So yes, it's another sodding meme page," Éponine stated.

"Does anyone have any _serious_ business?" Enjolras asked.

Courfeyrac put his hand to his chest and gasped comically. "Surely you are not suggesting that we ignore a comrade who is spreading a gay-centred anti-capitalist message, and is explicitly feminist and trans-inclusive to boot? We can reach out to organise with him, or at least help in sharing what he has to say."

Enjolras' head throbbed from the stress of the last few weeks, and he admitted defeat more easily than usual. "Fine, get on with it then."

Courfeyrac jumped up and punched his fist in the air. "Hell yes. You are not going to regret letting me show you this piece of internet gold. I'm sending you all a link now on the chat."

Several pinging sounds filled the café, and Enjolras reluctantly reopened his Macbook while everyone else either pulled out their phones or crowded around Courfeyrac with his tablet. Enjolras clicked the link and was not surprised to be directed to a Facebook page called [Bottom Leftist Memes](https://www.facebook.com/bottomleftist/?fref=ts), whose profile picture was (even Enjolras had to admit) an exeptionally nice (probably) male arse adorned with tight red and black boxers. The pinned post was a line drawing of a near-naked guy kneeling and holding an anarchist flag. The caption read 'Put the **dic** in an **anarcho-syndicalist** '. Enjolras snorted and glanced up and his brain stuttered to a halt.

Grantaire had sat down in the free chair next to Courfeyrac, two beers and a large glass of water on the table in front of him, and was leaning over his friend and laughing at the tablet. But the important thing for Enjorlas was that Grantaire had taken off his hoodie and Enjolras _couldn't breathe_.

Grantaire was wearing a deep green sporty tank top, showing off his sweat-shiny arms and a good portion of his chest. Enjolras was pretty sure he hadn't ever seen this much of the other man's skin, at least not in the several years since Grantaire had come off the hard drugs, went back on T and started boxing regularly with Bahorel. And _gods_ did he have the muscles to show for it. Grantaire's arms were strong with tattoos running around his biceps, the cut of the shirt giving a hint of pectoral muscles and chest hair before falling loosely over his narrow waist. Enjolras swallowed. He hadn't really thought he had a thing for muscles before this, but all he could think about in the moment was Grantaire pinning him down, the scent of sweat filling his nostrils. 

A jostle from his right snapped him out of it somewhat, but he couldn't focus properly as Combeferre tried to discuss with him why the admin of the meme page was spot-on with his cristicism of trigger warning jokes. He didn't really come back to reality until Grantaire stood, commanding his attention. 

"Let's see if any of the fantastic lines from these memes work on a real revolutionary, shall we?" Grantaire asked the room, laughing. Then he turned his smirk towards Enjolras. "Hey comrade, why don't you come here and put your _erection_ in my _insurrection_?" Grantaire winked at him and turned around to hi-five Courfeyrac, the rest of Les Amis laughing or cringing. Nobody seemed to notice how Enjolras' face had frozen, his mind caught on an image of Grantaire on a bed beckoning him, his legs splayed in those loose shorts which would be so easy to pull off...

"Can we get on with the next point on the agenda please, if you're all finished?" Combeferre asked. 

Everyone quietened down, and Bossuet stood to update the group on the status of the town hall. Enjolras tried to focus on the man as he was speaking, but couldn't help sneaking glances back at Grantaire who was lounging back in his seat, his legs almost at right angles and a beer bottle at his lips. 

When Bossuet had finished his summary, which was thankfully mostly good news, Enjolras thanked him and sought to move on to the next point in the agenda.

"So, as you know Jehan has been investigating the supply chains used by several big businesses with outlets on our high street. Do you want to update us on how you're doing with getting them to buy more ethically?"

Before Jehan could give their reply, Grantaire jumped up again and spread his arms dramatically. "I object, o fearless leader! This is not a worthy cause for Les Amis."

Enjolras sighed, used to this man's pointless interruptions. "Why not?"

Grantaire smirked. "Because," and here he paused dramatically, "the only ethical consumption under capitalism is eating this ass." He canted his right hip forward and smacked the aforementioned body part to hoots from the rest of the table before sitting down. Grantaire sent him a filthy smirk and licked his lips, and all Enjolras could think was ' _oh god oh god_ Grantaire's _ass_ or _his_ tongue in _my_ ass and oh god that's filthy it shouldn't be so _hot_.'

Courfeyrac leered at Grantaire and put a hand on his knee. "I'd take you up on that offer, R. You know, because fuck capitalism and all that. But also because I'm _really good at eating ass_ ," he winked and made an obscene movement with his tongue. 

Whilst Jehan was admonishing them both for being so vulgar tonight, Enjolras was busy trying to tamp down the feeling of jealousy that had flared up in him. Yes, Courfeyrac flirted with anything that moved, and yes Grantaire had never directed his attentions to anyone in the group but Enjolras himself, but that didn't stop his imagination from running wild. Why _weren't_ Courfeyrac and Grantaire hooking up? Both were attractive young queer men with dirty minds and a prediliction for casual sex. Enjolras thought that sex between them would be explosive, pornographic even, and _great_ , now Enjolras was picturing his friends screwing and his dick was becoming interested.

"You alright, Enj?" Combeferre asked quietly, looking concerned. Enjolras nodded, hoping that nobody else had noticed him go red-faced and glassy-eyed. He tried to get back into the meeting, but he mostly let the others speak. Every few minutes, he caught himself staring at Grantaire, and more often than not Grantaire was looking back.

Grantaire staring at him in meetings was nothing unusual, but Enjolras returning his attention was not, and it didn't take long for Grantaire's expression to turn confused. As turned on as he was, Enjolras began to panic at the thought that the other man might cotton on to the direction his thoughts had taken.

With a discreet whisper in Combeferre's ear while Joly was speaking, Enjolras rose to take a minute of much-needed fresh air outside. As he was squeezing past the tables, though, he felt someone grab his forearm. Enjolras turned, his intention nothing more than to deal with whoever wanted his attention as quickly as possible, before he realised that it was Grantaire who was touching him. 

Images immediately began flashing through Enjolras' mind.

_Grantaire's slim fingers pinning his forearms to the wall beside his head._

_Grantaire's biceps filling his vision as the other man sucked bruises into his kneck._

_Grantaire's bare knee insinuating itself between Enjolras' denim-clad ones, bringing their crotches flush together._

A tug on his arm brought Enjolras back to the present.

"...bother you. Do you want me to stop?"

Grantaire had been whispering to him, a concerned look on his face. But Enjolras had completely zoned out on him. 

"Sorry, Grantaire, I missed that. Could you repeat what you said?"

Grantaire's expression became even more worried, but he complied, still in a low voice. "I said that I really hope I'm not making you uncomfortable with my stupid lines. I know I flirt with you all the time but you usually seem to find it annoying rather than... well, I dunno what's up with you but I've clearly ruffled your feathers, and the last thing I want is to make you unhappy. If I've gone too far this time with the unwanted advances, please just tell me and I'll take my pining elsewhere, or at least do it in silence."

Grantaire's cheeks had gone a little pink after whispering all that, his usual confident bluster markedly absent. Up until then Enjolras hadn't been sure whether Grantaire had just been putting on a show for all these years with his sexual comments, wanting to provoke his virtuous leader with vulgarity the same way he challenged Enjolras' fervour with apathy. But now Grantaire had revealed his vulnerability, and what cold-hearted man would not feel the need to be honest in return? Perhaps the statue that many saw him as, but Enjolras was feeling particularly warm-blooded that night.

Before he could question what he was doing, Enjolras reached down and gently tipped Grantaire's chin up so that he could see the other man's face clearly. "Who said your advances were unwanted?" he asked, eyes burning and face as serious as ever. His fingers brushed Grantaire's light stubble before he let go and turned to sit back down beside Combeferre, no longer feeling the need to step outside.

Grantaire remained frozen in place for several long seconds, his mouth fallen slightly open and his eyes wide and fixed on where Enjolras had been moments before.

Enjolas felt immediately more at ease, pleased that control of the situation was back in his hands. He wondered if he should feel bad about that, watching Grantaire's flummoxed expression. But no, he was too relieved to finally be able to think rationally again. Enjolras would pay attention to the rest of the meeting, organise what needed to be organised, and then after everything necessary was finished he would talk to Grantaire about the situation.

For the next twenty minutes, the meeting continued roughly as normal, Enjolras offering suggestions and criticisms and listening to what everyone else had to say. The only noticable oddity was that Grantaire had been silent throughout, and hadn't even finished his second beer. Enjolras supposed that his outbursts earlier on more than made up for the lack now, but nevertheless he was becoming worried that he was responsible for Grantaire's quiet mood.

Enjolras waited until the next time the other man glanced at him, which didn't take long, and then offered him a small smile as their eyes met. Enjolras had meant it to be a friendly and reassuring gesture, but as their gazes locked his traitorous lips instead morphed into a heated smirk. He'd never felt compelled to flirt with anyone before, but it seemed now he couldn't stop himself.

Grantaire looked confused again, but after a couple of seconds returned his smile cautiously before lifting his beer in a salute and bringing it to his lips. Enjolras took in the view for a guilty couple of seconds. The way Grantaire's bottom lip was curved around the bottle as he drank. The way his eyes closed in pleasure at the taste of beer. They way the column of the man's throat was exposed. Enjolras' gaze continued lower, but he looked away towards Eponine before Grantaire could notice.

Eponine was speaking about sexual harassment of women and feminine people on public transport, and letting everyone know about a campaign a women's group she was part of was running. "And we were thinking about doing something disruptive. Maybe occupying one of the Métro stations, or taping our posters over all the advertisements on train cars."

"Those are good ideas," Enjolras chimed in. "We should organise something in conjunction with it. I was thinking that... "

Cosette coughed loudly from her position on Marius' lap in the corner. "Enjolras, I _do_ hope you're not thinking that your manly ideas are _just_ what the women's group needs, hm?"

"No, sorry, I didn't mean to take over. I can tell you my idea later, but whatever form of protest you decide on I'll offer my solidarity, and..."

Courfeyrac burst out laughing. "Sorry, sorry," he said, trying to quiet his laughs. "It's nothing - carry on." 

Enjolras gave his friend a stern look, but Courfeyrac was busy nudging Grantaire and showing something on his tablet.

"Sorry, as I was saying, I hope all of us will offer our support. More people to join your sit-in, or put up posters, or publicise it, or whatever you need us to do."

"Thank you", said Eponine. "I'll keep you all updated with the campaign."

"Great," Enjolras replied. "Is there anything else to discuss today?"

"Wait, wait!" Courfeyrac shouted, waving his hand in the air like an excited schoolboy. "I have a question."

The man was barely stifling his laughs, so Enjolras did not have high hopes for this. "Yes, Courf?"

"What was it you said you wanted from us? For Eponine's campaign?" Courfeyrac was elbowing Grantaire in a way he probably thought nobody would notice but was completely obvious.

Enjolras furrowed his eyebrows, not seeing where he was going with this. "I just said that in whatever way they ask from us, we should show our solidarity, and..."

"Ahem." Grantaire stood, clearing his throat. "Well, if that's what you're looking for..." He smirked again, locking eyes with Enjolras before obscenely grabbing the crotch of his shorts. "I got some solidarity for ya right fuckin' here, comrade."

Courfeyrac was whooping, several people were laughing and Jehan was trying to point out that this was an example of the very harassment the campaign was targeting, but all that was background noise to Enjolras. Grantaire's brown eyes were still fixed on his, and Enjolras felt like he might melt from the heat in them. 

Enjolras swallowed.

Grantaire licked his lips.

In a matter of seconds, Enjolras was up from his seat and leading the other man by the hand away from their startled friends and around a corner to an unused part of the room, crowding Grantaire against the wall.

"Grantaire," he asked, trying to control his desperation, "Please tell me I can kiss you."

Grantaire's mouth was open like a fish, his eyes skittering over Enjolras' face but not settling. "What?" he managed to croak out.

Enjolras pursed his lips, and that finally drew Grantaire's gaze, keeping it fixed somewhere. "I have been so unbearably turned on looking at you all evening, and if you've just been joking around with your flirting all this time, or if you don't want this, you need to tell me now."

But Grantaire still seemed to be stuck for words, his mouth opening and closing again and his eyes never leaving Enjolras' mouth.

"Grantaire, were you serious?" Enjolras demanded, and finally Grantaire looked up at him.

"I'm wild." And then Grantaire pulled Enjolras down by the back of his neck and they were kissing and Enjolras stopped thinking.

What felt like minutes later, the two men broke apart panting, Grantaire's left and right hands in Enjolras' hair and on Enjolras' arse respectively, and both of Enjolras' hands gripping the other man's biceps.

"Just checking," Grantaire said, his voice lower than usual and scratchy, "But this isn't a joke is it? Courf didn't put you up to this?"

"Of course not!" Enjolras snapped back, indignant.

"Okay, okay." Grantaire put his hands up between them placatingly, then seemingly decided that he'd rather be touching Enjolras. "It's just..." Grantaire ran one finger slowly down the centre of his chest, making Enjolras shiver. "I should've known you'd get a hard-on from those dirty leftist pick-up lines." The finger paused just above Enjolras' belt, but then continued further, tracing the evidence of Enjolras' very real hard on through his jeans. "If I'd known you had that kink I would've turned up to meetings in just a red flag and a beret." 

Enjolras seemed to be struggling for words, so Grantaire took his hand away from Enjolras' crotch, causing him to let out a barely-audible whine. Grantaire smiled. Clearly he was enjoying Enjolras' distress at being so turned on.

"It wasn't that," Enjolras whispered. "It was, um..."

"Really? I don't believe you. What was it then?"

"It was... more physical," he mumbled. 

Grantaire's eyebrows were drawn together in confusion before he noticed where Enjolras' eyes had drifted again. And where he was still gripping.

"Really? You like my _muscles_?"

Enjolras' face had gone red, but Grantaire wanted his answer. Without dislodging the hands, Grantaire slowly rotated his arms, and then flexed the muscles under Enjolras' fingers. 

"Unggg!" Enjorlas' thought processes short-circuited again. There was no way he could hide the reaction to that from Grantaire, who laughed.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. I don't want to shame you for your muscle kink or anything, and fuck knows I'm not complaining, but I'm not even that built. Not compared to Bahorel or Combeferre."

Enjolras didn't give a vocal response, simply shaking his head minutely and continuing to stare at where his fingers bracketed Grantaire's biceps. Grantaire started to look more and more concerned as the seconds wore on and the usually un-shut-uppable-Enjolras didn't say anything.

"Enjolras, you have... done this before, right?" Grantaire asked, then winced as he wondered if he'd been undiplomatic.

Enjolras looked up finally. "If you mean sex, then yes Grantaire, I have done this before. I just don't think I've ever been this aroused."

Grantaire merely smiled and nodded reassuringly, as if that wasn't the best sentence anyone had ever said to him in his entire life.

"Sure, great, um. Of course you have. So... you want sex then? With me? Tonight?"

Enjolras sighed in that impatient way of his he always had around the other man. "Grantaire, I want to take you back to my flat, and I want you to hold me down and fuck me into my mattress so hard I can't think of anything but your cock inside me."

Grantaire let himself be shocked at the vulgarity which just escaped Enjolras' lips for just one second before he'd flipped them round to pin the taller man to the wall and claim his lips. 

" _Oh my god_ Enjolras," he said when they broke apart for air again. "You've been keeping that dirty mouth a secret. We need to leave _right now_ before I take you apart right here in the café."

Enjolras moaned and surged forward at this, resuming their kiss and starting on the dangerous path to dry-humping in public. 

"Gods," Enjolras gasped half a minute later. "Yeah, we need to get back to mine. 'Ferre will be here for another half hour at least, and I don't think I'm gonna last that long anyway."

"Actually, um, we should go back to mine. That is, if you want my _solidarity_."

Grantaire had emphasised the last word oddly, looking unusually uncomfortable, and it took a few seconds for Enjolras' thought processes to work through the lustful haze. _Right_. Of course Grantaire wouldn't have the right equipment with him for that activity. It's not as if he'd been expecting his flirting to be sucessful after all. "Right, yeah, it'll have to be yours then. Because as I think I mentioned, I _really_ want your cock inside me."

" _Fuck_." Grantaire had balled his hands into fists and was focussing resolutely on the ground. "Your fucking _mouth_. Come on, we're going. _Now_. 

Grantaire grabbed Enjoras by the front of his shirt and dragged him back around the corner and down the stairs. Neither of them even looked to see whether their friends had noticed them leaving together or not.

As they emerged into the night air, Enjolras realised that they'd left his jumper and Grantaire's hoodie back in the café. However it wasn't that cold out, and he was certainly not going to waste any time going back, so he'd just have to hope that their friends would notice and pick up their forgotten clothing.

"Do you live round here, then?" Enjolras asked as they continued walking in the opposite direction to the nearest Métro station.

"Yeah, only five minutes away. I actually probably spend more time at the Musain than I do at home - it's conveniently close."

Enjolras frowned. "You spend all that time drinking, then?"

"Don't pretend you didn't know I like to drink, Enjolras," he replied, grimacing. "If you've changed your mind and realised you don't actually want to hook up with a loser after all, just say so."

Enjolras reached out and grabbed Grantaire's hand, interlocking their fingers as they walked down the quiet street. "That's not it at all. Sorry, I know I often come across as judgemental with... these kinds of things. But I just care about you, y'know. As a friend."

Grantaire shot him a skeptical look. "Don't worry about lying to me just because we're gonna have sex. I know we're not friends. More like enemies really, the way we're always arguing."

"That's not..." Enjolras' frown only deepened. "I know I'm bad with expressing feelings, but I never wanted you to get that impression. Actually, I have proof that I consider you a friend."

"Proof?"

"Proof. Because I'm actually demisexual."

Grantaire looked into the distance for a second. "Demisexual... sorry, I can't remember what that one means..."

"That's okay." Enjolras smiled at him encouragingly. "It means I'm not sexually attracted to anyone unless I have a strong bond with them first."

Grantaire's cheeks turned pink and he looked at the ground, smiling. "Wow, that's... it seems like an honour then. Thank you. If it's not weird to say thank you. By the way, I never saw you as an enemy. That's just how I thought you saw me."

Enjolras merely squeezed his hand in reply, and they kept walking in silence for another minute.

"Y'know, if I had had to guess, I would've said you were homoromantic asexual," Grantaire stated, and Enjolras fought back a smile at how predictable it was that Grantaire couldn't even be quiet for the short walk home. "You always defined as queer, but you've not had any sexual partners as long as I've known you. Well as far as I know. And come on, look at you, you'd have no trouble pulling anyone you wanted. And you've always given off a gay vibe. Sorry, I didn't mean that to sound offensive. But, y'know, gaydar is a thing." He trailed off, perhaps getting self-conscious about his rambling. "Sorry if it's creepy that I've given so much thought to your preferences."

"You weren't far off actually. The homoromantic part's right, and demisexuality is usually considered to be on the ace spectrum. Also, the three people I have been sexually attracted to have all been guys, so I'd say your gaydar is functioning perfectly."

" _Jesus_. I'm one of only _three_ people you've ever been attracted to? I am gonna make this _so_ good for you."

Enjolras gulped, the anticipation ratcheting up a notch. He hoped they were close to Grantaire's place now.

"Tell me if it's out of line to ask this, but I'm really curious. You've been attracted to two guys before, and you've had sex before. So, um, did you get it on with both of them?"

"You really want me to tell you about my previous sexual partners when we're about to hook up?" Enjolras asked, confused.

"No. Yes. Well, thing is, I'm not really the jealous sort. At all. It's not a kink of mine, I'm just curious. Like I said, I've spent years trying to figure out your sexual and romantic history. You don't have to tell me or anything, I'm just wondering."

Enjolras thought for a few seconds before answering. No, this was probably not a normal thing to be discussing with a guy you were going home with. But when had anything about his relationship with Grantaire been normal? They had always ignored tact in their arguments, and the honesty was something he had always valued in their friendship.

"It's fine. I'm not embarassed to talk about it or anything. And I've overheard enough of your conversations with Bahorel and Courf to have a pretty detailed picture of your sex life. I, uh... I had a boyfriend in school, when I was 17. At the time I thought I was asexual, and he was the first person who was okay with that. But after a couple of months I started having doubts about that. He was really patient, not pushing me to figure everything out. But we experimented, and I found that I really liked sex after all."

Enjolras was quiet for a moment, thinking about Jacques with fondness now that his heart had had a whole decade to mend. Grantaire let him think, holding his hand tightly as they turned a corner.

"In my first year at uni I tried hooking up with a guy I met in a club. It was awful. We'd already both got naked by the time I accepted that I was not going to magically start being attracted to him, and he was pretty pissed off at me when I got up and left. Then, err, a couple of years ago, there was... a person who I was friends with who I developed both romantic and sexual feelings for."

"Combeferre."

Enjolras' head whipped round. "What? How did you...?"

Grantaire snorted. "Don't worry, you weren't terribly obvious. I wasn't sure until you just confirmed it. But I've always watched you closely, remember? And I noticed you, watching him."

Enjolras' cheeks had turned pink. "Well, yeah, you were right."

"Must've been hard, crushing on a straight guy. Did you ever tell him?"

Somehow Enjolras had become even more red. "Um, yeah I did, and actually, err. Well yeah he is straight, but after discussing it, he decided to, well, check."

"WHAT?!" Grantaire stopped in the middle of the pavement, tugging on Enjolras' arm until they were facing each other. "I know you're practically a Greek god of a man, but you can even get straight guys to hook up with you? No way!"

Enjolras looked uncomfortable. "He said he always felt something for me that went beyond friendship, and he was willing to give sex a try as long as it wouldn't hurt my feelings. And we, well, we kissed and got each other off, but afterwards he said... He said 'I'm sorry, Enj. That was the best blowjob I've had in my life, but I had to close my eyes and imagine you were a woman to be able to come.'"

"Oh my god. I think you just broke my brain." Grantaire giggled. "That's so fucking hot, funny and tragic at the same time. Courf would love this, but don't worry, I'd never tell anyone. Oh my god."

Enjolras smiled despite himself, and pulled on Grantaire's hand until they were walking again. 

"Actually, it's just this building here," Grantaire admitted, pulling them towards the door of the apartment complex they'd been stood in front of and inputting a code. "Now I'd very much like to skip to the part in the story of Enjolras' sexual adventures where he gets taken home by the scruffy drunk who's always picking fights with him at meetings."

Enjolras laughed and followed him through the door and up the stairs. "I'd prefer to call it 'Enjolras gets taken home by the gorgeous muscular artist who was being a spectacular tease at tonight's meeting'".

"I love how you're so fucking wrong about everything." Grantaire's countering everything he said was much more familiar territory. "But you believe it all, don't you? Enjolras the virtuous, always believing that everyone is inherently good."

"Most people are," Enjolras replied, distracted from his impatience as Grantaire fiddled with the key in the lock and opened it. "You've just got to appeal to that good. If we could just break through the state's brainwashing which prefers people to be self-interested, we could _unghhh, oh fuck, Grantaire_!" 

Enjolras tried to keep his voice down, but that was difficult when you had 5'9" of muscular (did he mention muscular already?) hunk pinning you to the inside of his now-closed front door and mouthing at your neck.

"What was that you were saying, Enjolras?" 

Enjolras struggled to regain his line of thinking, but Grantaire didn't give him a chance, instead reaching down to palm over Enjolras' denim-clad arse and down to his thighs. Grantaire lifted him with ease, and Enjolras' legs wrapped around his hips automatically. Grantaire shifted his weight forward so that Enjolras' erection pushed against the hard planes of his stomach, and Enjolras groaned again, his head thrown back to hit the wood of the door with a thunk. Grantaire laughed sadistically.

"I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of seeing our dear leader lost for words." The height difference was too much to reach Enjolras' mouth or neck in this position, so Grantaire busied himself by unbuttoning Enjolras' shirt slowly and kissing his skin as it was revealed. Enjolras' chest was pale but flushed pink with arousal, dusted lightly with sparse blonde hairs. "Are you conceding your argument for once?"

Enjolras balked at this. He'd never conceded any of the hundreds of arguments he'd had with this man who he'd often suspected came to ABC meetings just to torment him. But his brain was stuttering on and off, and he could barely think past the sensation of Grantaire's mouth on his left nipple. "Of... of course not. I... you're a good person Grantaire. You're, _fuck_ , so good, _oh gods_ 'Aire, that's so good, _don't stop_."

Grantaire, apparently just to be contrary, did stop then, letting the red bud of Enjolras' nipple go free from his teeth. Just as Enjolras realised that his shirt was now fully unbuttoned, Grantaire shifted his grip and lifted up further. Enjolras flailed a little and put hands up to balance himself against the ceiling, as Grantaire had lifted his hips almost to the level of his shoulders, and was holding him there without visible effort whilst Grantaire continued his exploration of Enjolras' torso, mouthing against his stomach now. Grantaire's tongue briefly dipped into Enjolras' belly button, making him squirm, and then licked down further, until he came to the waistband of Enjolras' jeans. 

Grantaire hefted him again until Enjolras' thighs were balanced on Grantaire's narrow but strong shoulders, his crotch a mere two inches from the man's face. Grantaire looked up smugly, and held eye contact as he used his now-free hands to unbuckle Enjolras' pleather belt and pull it out from the loops to clatter against the wooden floor. Grantaire undid the button next with his nimble artist's fingers, but then moved them out of the way to pull down Enjolras' fly with his teeth. It was such a pornographic thing to do, all show, that Enjolras couldn't help thrusting his hips forward and arching his back, almost tipping them over from their precarious position. Grantaire laughed at his enthusiasm, but Enjolras fixed him with a withering glare from his higher vantage point.

"I swear in the name of all that is good, Grantaire, if you don't suck me off this instant I am walking out of here!"

Grantaire just chuckled again at this clearly empty threat, but swung Enjolras around and down onto a nearby armchair so quickly he didn't know what was happening until he'd landed on the cushions with a thunk. "Yes, sir," Grantaire replied, falling easily onto his knees. "God I love it when you're bossy." 

Enjolras didn't have time to object to being called bossy before Grantaire had freed his cock from his boxers and swallowed him down. He also didn't have the spare brain power to feel self-conscious about the loud yelp he let out at this, and instead focussed on keeping his hips still and not thrusting into the wet heat of Grantaire's mouth. After a mere twenty seconds of that incredible suction, Grantaire's lips let him go with an audible pop. Enjolras groaned and tangled his fingers in the messy brown hair, trying to get him to resume, but Grantaire smiled and resisted.

"Talk," Grantaire requested, his voice scratchy from having a dick down his throat. "Please, I want to hear you."

Enjorlas breathed for a few seconds and tried to process this. "You little... Fine. Anything to get your mouth back on me. What should I say?"

Grantaire laughed again and licked a warm stripe from Enjolras' balls up to the head of his cock. "Is this the first blowjob you've got in ten years? I'm guessing Combeferre didn't return the favour."

"No, you're right, he-" Enjolras gasped as a warm mouth descended on him again, but Grantaire stayed maddeningly still until he resumed talking. "H-he gave me a handjob. And it was... do you really want to hear about me having sex with someone else whilst my cock is in your mouth?"

Grantaire simply hummed around his dick, and didn't _that_ feel amazing, and somehow communicated "Obviously I want to hear about it" with his eyes.

"Fuck, okay. S-so, we were on his bed, and he'd just come in my mouth, but he pulled me up to him and he was _unghh Grantaire_ , he was kissing me so messily, like... like he didn't mind the taste of himself. And I was... I was so close just from kissing and sucking him, and then he reached down, _oh gods yes, 'Aire_ , and wrapped his big hand around me, and, and _fuck, fuck, Grantaire I'm gonna come_." Enjolras let out a deep moan, his fingers tightening in Grantaire's curls to hold him in place as he emptied his come into Grantaire's mouth. Grantaire swallowed it all easily, keeping his tongue moving gently as Enjolras started to soften in his mouth.

Moments later, as Enjolras came back to himself and his breathing slowed, he became aware that Grantaire, who was still kneeling in front of him on the floor, had a hand moving desperately quickly inside his shorts. Enjolras leant forward, about to offer to help, but at just that moment Grantaire pushed his face into the denim of Enjolras' thigh and groaned, his whole body convulsing as his orgasm ripped through him. Enjolras let him have a moment to recover slumped forward onto his lap, and gently petted his brunet curls, hoping he wouldn't get snapped at for doing so.

"You have no idea how many times I've fantasised about sucking you off," Grantaire mumbled, his voice muffled from still being pressed into Enjolras' leg. "But that was better than I could've imagined."

Enjolras laughed. "I seriously doubt it was better for you than it was for me. You give amazing head."

He could feel the muscles in Grantaire's face move against his leg, so he knew that Grantaire was smiling at the compliment, even if he couldn't see it.

"It's a shame though," Enjolras continued, "that you never did fuck me into your mattress."

Grantaire shifted to look up at him straight away. "Is that a challenge?" 

"I suppose it'll have to be later on. I can't wait to feel you pressing me down and pounding into me." Enjolras stretched out in the chair, already imagining it.

Grantaire's breath hitched, and he unsteadily got to his feet and moved across the room to a cupboard. "You know, the great thing about my cock," he said conversationally as he rummaged through a box just out of sight, "is that it stays hard all the time. And with my stamina, I could fuck you for hours on end, leaving you just on the edge, until you begged me to let you come." 

Grantaire paced back over to him, and it was Enjolras' turn to be short of breath when he saw what Grantaire was carrying. A very large, very hard strap-on, just the same colour as the rest of Grantaire. "If you want this inside you, go to my bedroom and strip."

Enjolras almost tripped over his undone jeans in his haste to comply, but he was too eager to be embarassed. Grantaire had made him wait _hours_ for this, and he so desperately wanted to be fucked. He pulled his jeans up just enough to be able to walk, and moved through the hallway looking for Grantaire's bedroom. The first open door he came to showed a bed with hot pink sheets and some very explicit posters on the wall, and whilst it was very gay it was also very obviously Courfeyrac's room and not Grantaire's.

Thankfully the next one was clearly right. The green sheets on his bed were unmade, there were art supplies strewn across both the desk and the carpet, and almost every inch of wallspace was covered in paintings. Enjolras drew closer to one of them, a dreamlike piece with swirls of red, black and gold. In fact, if he tilted his head it kind of looked like a person-

A noise from the living room startled him back to reality, and he ignored the rest of the paintings in favour of stripping out of his clothing. He'd never even taken off his shoes, he realised, embarassed, and he did that first. Then his socks and jeans. He struggled a bit with his shirt, forgetting that Grantaire had only unbuttoned it down the front, and it got stuck when he tried to pull it off with the cuffs still done up. Unfortunately, this was when Grantaire walked into the bedroom. Instead of laughing at his awkward position, however Grantaire bit his lip and strode forward, grabbing Enjolras' arms so he stopped struggling. 

"Well, well, looks like you couldn't follow my simple instructions after all," he taunted. "I guess you don't want this, then." Grantaire palmed the front of his shorts, where there was now a very big and very obvious tent.

Enjolras whined. "You're still fully dressed, so who are you to talk?" he fired back. "And don't pretend you haven't been dreaming about me naked on your bed for literally _years_. You're not going to pass this up."

Grantaire grinned, seemingly pleased that sex hadn't stopped Enjolras from being brutally honest around him. "Hmm, you're right of course. But I do need to punish you somehow for not stripping when I told you to."

Walking round behind Enjolras, he grabbed the other man's arms where they were stuck in his shirtsleeves and began twisting and doing up more buttons.

"What are you doing?" Enjolras asked, but it was very clear what he'd done when Grantaire stepped away and Enjolras tried to move his arms. Both his forearms were locked behind his back, almost antiparallel to each other, tightly bound by his own shirt.

"Is that okay?" Grantaire checked, and Enjolras was surprised at how quickly and eagerly he nodded. Enjolras had never tried any kind of bondage all those years ago with Jacques, but the way his body was very clearly responding told him that this was something he'd definitely be trying again.

"Now, let's get you out of the rest of it." Grantaire gestured to Enjolras' white boxers, which were showing that Enjolras was half-hard again already. Enjolras couldn't get out of the underwear himself with his arms restrained, so he waited for Grantaire to peel them down his legs until he could step out of them. "Gorgeous," Grantaire said, his voice husky. "Now go kneel on the middle of my bed."

"No," Enjolras bristled at the humiliation of being ordered around, bound and almost naked, whilst Grantaire simply watched. "I want to see you strip first."

"Still can't get that bossy streak out of you, I see. It's a good thing I fucking adore that about you. Very well, then. If I take off my shirt, will you go kneel on the bed?"

Enjolras wanted to refuse, knowing that he could probably negotiate further, but he was too tempted at the thought of seeing the muscles that that damned green tank top was hiding. "Fine," he agreed, trying to hide how eager he was.

Grantaire rolled his eyes, but crossed his arms in front of him to grab the hem of his shirt. There was a split second of hesitation before he pulled it off, almost too quick for Enjolras to notice but not quite, but then Enjolras was too distracted at the sight in front of him to consider it further. 

Grantaire's chest was just as muscular as Enjolras had expected, with well-defined pectoral muscles above his top surgery scars and toned abs which Enjolras suddenly had an overwhelming desire to lick. Over his chest was frankly more curly brown hair than he'd anticipated. Much more than Enjolras himself had, at least.

"On the bed then." Grantaire broke Enjolras out of his reverie, looking slightly uncomfortable but trying to hide it behind his bluster as usual. Enjolras supposed he had been staring for a good while. He must have not moved fast enough, because before Enjolras could blink he was lifted onto his toes by Grantaire's grip on his shoulders, then launched backwards onto the mattress. It would have been soft gesture if not for his bound arms, and he winced. But that was better. He'd been fantasising all night about Grantaire manhandling him, and now he was getting some more. 

"Shit, sorry, I forgot about your arms," Grantaire said, and Enjolras realised he'd need to say something if he wanted Grantaire to keep treating him like that.

Pushing through his embarassment, he murmered, "No I- I liked it."

Grantaire looked at him in confusion for a moment. "You liked me being rough?"

Enjolras nodded, his face beet red. Grantaire smirked down at him, walking round to the side of the bed and running his hand down Enjolras' torso, stopping just before reaching his rapidly hardening cock. Putting one knee on the bed, Grantaire reached over to Enjolras' far shoulder, abruptly rolled him onto his front, then climbed fully onto the bed to straddle his arse, pushing him down into the mattress. Enjolras squirmed and couldn't help the aborted thrusts his hips were making, seeking friction on his cock. Grantaire tutted and moved back, and then there was one hand gripping his bound wrists and one in his hair and they _pulled_. Enjolras was painfully yanked up into a kneeling position, and he realised that this was exactly where Grantaire had wanted him all along. 

"You really do like it, don't you?" Grantaire mused out loud from where he was pressed all along Enjolras' back. "You looked at me in the meeting today and thought: 'I want that man to take me apart'." 

Enjolras tried to stifle his moan, but there was no way Grantaire didn't hear, being so close. The hand around Enjolras' wrists moved to stroke down his chest whilst the one in his hair pulled his head to the side to expose his throat. Grantaire kissed for a moment before biting down and sucking, and Enjolras mewled, his hips jerking again but finding no friction from the air, only the hard outline of Grantaire's cock against his backside. Enjolras was _so done_ with all this teasing.

"Grant _aire_! Just fuck me already," he commanded. A few seconds of stillness passed, and Enjolras was sure that Grantaire was considering his next move in this game of sexual torture.

Instead Grantaire grabbed the back of Enjolras' neck and roughly shoved him face-first into the mattress, his bare arse still high in the air. 

"Don't move," Grantaire threatened as he scrambled off the bed and lunged towards his bedside drawers. Then he was back, one hand kneading Enjolras' left arsecheek whilst the other fiddled with something. Enjolras heard the click of a cap being popped off what he really hoped was lube and tried to push himself up a little to look behind him, but was forced down gain by a hand high on his back. Enjolras considered protesting his rough treatment, since despite clearly enjoying it he didn't want to give Grantaire the satisfaction of having full control here. But no, doing anything but submitting now would simply delay what he _really_ wanted: Grantaire inside of him.

Still, he couldn't bear to say nothing. "Get _on_ with it, Grantaire!"

For that he recieved a spank, so it had definitely been worth it. "Always got to be the leader, eh?"

Suddenly there was a wet finger against his arsehole, and Enjolras pushed back immediately so that the digit, still slightly too cold, breached him.

"Oh, who cares if you're bossy when you look like this, wiggling your arse in the air, desperate for me to finger you." Grantaire slowly drew his finger in and out, provoking desperate little whines from the man below him. "I think I could get you to agree to anything like this, couldn't I?" He twisted his finger round, still keeping a torturously slow pace. "What was our argument about last week at the ABC meeting, do you remember?" Enjolras just groaned, so Grantaire continued. "I think it was about how most people are better off under capitalism, yet you _still_ insist that we should screw up the whole stable system and impose an imaginary socialist utopia."

That finally got Enjolras to speak. "Whilst I disagree with your clearly untrue 'fact' that most people are better off under capitalism, that doesn't change the fact that millions, billions even, are oppressed. And captitalism is not going to fix that because it's exactly how capitalism _thrives_. We've got to _unghhh fuck!_ "

"What was that?" Grantaire asked innocently, then twisted his (now two) fingers _just right_ again to brush against Enjolras' prostate. Enjolras swore again. "Were you admitting that a bloodless revolution isn't possible, and so what you're arguing for would go against your pacifist ideals?"

"I never... I never said I was a pacifist," Enjolras got out, with much difficulty. "I would never hurt someone who _fuck_ didn't... didn't deserve it. But I have no qualms about... about..." Grantaire added a third finger. " _Oh gods yes Grantaire_. I wouldn't hesitate to hurt someone who was killing others, either... _fuck yes_... either directly or because of the power they hold in the... _oh gods_ in the system. Damn it, Grantaire, that's enough preparation. Stop teasing me and fuck me! Right. Now." 

Grantaire seemed to be willing to cooperate for once, as he pulled his fingers out straight away, and mere seconds later he felt the lubed silicone head of Grantaire's cock pressing against his entrance. "Yes! _Please_ , Grantaire." Enjolras was practically babbling, but he didn't care. If Grantaire wanted him to beg, he'd beg. He'd do anything at this point.

Grantaire pushed in slowly but surely, and Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut against the sensation. Despite his insistence that he was ready, Enjolras hadn't done this with anything but his fingers since he was a teenager, and even then Grantaire's dick was rather larger and less yielding than the average penis. When Grantaire was all the way in he stopped, probably hearing Enjolras' strained breathing, and stroked his back gently. 

"That's it, breathe, Enjolras." After a few seconds like that, the twinges of pain subsided, leaving only an odd mix of physical discomfort and some primal, satisfying feeling of being filled.

"I'm okay, you can move now."

"Are you sure? Maybe I should have prepped you more. I..."

"I said move Grantaire. Now!" Enjolras barked, wiggling his arse for good measure.

"Pushy bastard," Grantaire admonished, but began moving in and out slowly.

In almost no time the discomfort disappeared, and Enjolras had to bite at the duvet beneath him to stifle his moans before they got too loud. 

"That's it Enjolras. Fuck, you look so gorgeous like this, with my cock filling you up." Enjolras guessed that Grantaire's strap-on had some attatchment to stimulate himself, since Grantaire was grunting with almost every thrust. 

"Fuck, harder, Grantaire!" Enjolras demanded. "Please, harder!"

"If you say so, sir," Grantaire agreed, and fucked him harder, causing Enjolras to almost scream. Grantaire grabbed onto Enjolras' hips, pulling him back into every thrust. Enjolras mewled into the duvet, biting at the sheets so desperately that he ripped them up from where they'd been tucked under the mattress. At the deepest part of each movement the skin of their thighs slapped against each other, but that was hardly the loudest noise in the room. Enjolras distantly hoped that Courfeyrac had decided to stay late at the Musain, or he might die from mortification.

Abruptly the speed and angle of Grantaire's thrusts changed as he lost his rhythm. One of his hands disappeared from Enjolras' hip, Grantaire's shallow thrusting sped up, and Grantaire moaned something close to Enjolras' name loudly, his hips stuttering as he came. 

Enjolras squirmed, trying to get stimulation from Grantaire's cock, still inside him, but unable to move much in this position. He was so _close_ , and was torn between begging the man to keep going and doing the polite thing of giving him a moment to come down from his orgasm. As usual though, Grantaire took the decision out of his hands, and started thrusting again.

"Fuck, Enjolras, you're fucking amazing. You're fucking incredible," Grantaire was murmering, and the praise heated up his face in a completely different way to the humiliation of earlier.

"Please, Grantaire, touch me. I'm so close," he begged, unable to wait any longer. Grantaire didn't say or do anything for several seconds, the slap of their bodies and low moans from Enjolras filling the bedroom, and Enjolras wondered if Grantaire had heard him at all. But then Grantaire moved pulling out most of the way and repositioning so that he was almost standing over Enjolras' raised arse, the head of his cock still inside.

"What are you doing?" Enjolras asked.

Grantaire smirked. "I'm not gonna touch your dick." Grantaire pushed in from above, the angle completely different and shallower than before and pushing up against Enjolras' inner wall instead of pushing _in_. "But what I am gonna do," Grantaire punctuated this by pulling out a little and pushing back in again at a slightly different angle, leaving Enjolras an incoherently begging mess below him, "is this." 

Enjolras practically screamed so loud he was sure everyone in the street could hear as Grantaire hit his prostate. "Oh _gods_ Grantaire. Fuck, _Jesus_ what are you _oh gods_!" Enjolras had probably not sworn this much in his whole life, but it was impossible not to as Grantaire's well-aimed, shallow thrusts rubbed against the same spot over and over again. Just seconds later, Enjolras wailed as he came, his cock untouched, onto the sheets below him.

Grantaire pulled out carefully before flopping down next to Enjolras, who finally gave up the demanding position of having his arse in the air and slid his legs down to lie flat on his front. Enjolras was happy to relax like that in a daze as Grantaire unbuttoned the shirt binding his wrists and then rubbed the circulation back into his arms. Grantaire continued stroking Enjolras' arms long after it was needed, and then moved onto his back, and his hair.

Eventually Enjolras summoned the energy to turn his head sideways, and was greeted with a shy look from Grantaire, whose face was mere inches away. The insecure expression was so different from that on the guy who just screwed him six ways to Sunday that Enjolras instinctively leaned forward to attempt to kiss it off him. The noise Grantaire made when their lips came together was both surprised and pleased, so Enjolras counted that as a success. Pulling away enough to see the other man's face, Enjolras smiled, and saw it mirrored in front of him.

"So, that was good," Grantaire started, and Enjolras burst out laughing.

When this didn't have a positive effect on Grantaire's facial expression, Enjolras quickly explained. "I'm only laughing because 'good' is such an inadequate decription of what just happened. At least for me. That was the best anyone's ever given it to me, although I'm sure that was obvious from all the noise I made." Enjolras winced a little at the thought, and once again prayed that Courfeyrac hadn't made it home yet. 

Grantaire smirked. "Maybe a bit obvious, yeah. It was the best for me too."

"Really? You've had dozens of sexual partners, most of them probably much more experienced than me, and _I'm_ the best?"

"Yeah, well, I hadn't been crushing on any of them for a good seven years," Grantaire joked, a hint of vulnerability shining through.

"Good point," Enjolras said. "I wonder if it'll be as good this time next week, when I'll have had a crush on you for seven days." 

Grantaire laughed. "That doesn't even make sense, you ridiculous man. How do you know you'll still like me in a week's time?"

"Will _you_ still like me in a week's time?" Enjolras asked. Grantaire nodded immediately, as it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Well there you go. I know." And with that, he ducked down for another kiss.


End file.
